Count the Numbers
by Origami Love
Summary: Ah, to be young and in love. Not everyone had that luxury. Every single child on earth is born with a series of numbers marked somewhere on their body. The placement is always random and seemingly the numbers are too. Scientists have spent years trying to find out if a number is somehow related to what their ancestors were given. So far no luck.
1. Chapter 1

Ah, to be young and in love. Not everyone had that luxury. Clarke found herself spending her free time between classes as far away from the university as she could. It wasn't uncommon for her to go off campus, lately though she all but avoided it in the hopes she wouldn't run into people she recognized. She spent some much needed time alone studying, or browsing a select few stores in town. Between all her classes in university and working at her moms practice, it left her social life much to be desired. For now though she'd kind of needed that time away from people to recuperate from a recent breakup. Too many constant reminders kept creeping up. She hated the questions about how she was doing.

The bookstore had been the choice of retreat for the day. Smelling that freshness to the books freshly out of the printers had always been one of her favorite things. If she could get addicted to that she probably would have a long time ago. Rather than browsing in no particular order like she usually would, Clarke actually had something in mind, so made a beeline to that section.

She wanted to purchase some books going into deeper detail about numerology. It was a silly astrological thing with absolutely no merit. The book dives into one theory that the numbers marked on every individual is somehow tied into their personalities. Sort of like how birth signs play their own part in what supposedly makes a person who they are. It was not something Clarke would put too much into without a more logical or scientific explanation. For her though, taking a more open approach to something unexplained might be the only way to solve it. It had always been her dream to crack the code no one else had yet answered:

What algorithms do the numbers use?

Every single child on earth is born with a series of numbers marked somewhere on their body. The placement is always random and seemingly the numbers are too. Scientists have spent years trying to find out if a number is somehow related to what their ancestors were given. So far no luck. What's more curious are the rarer duplicate numbers whereby two people will have the exact same digits.

Such individuals have been highlighted throughout all of history. Some of the most famous couples were said to have matching numbers; Adam and Eve, Napoleon and Josephine, Bonnie and Clyde. While science couldn't explain it, this phenomenon has regularly been mentioned as one finding their soulmate. To find another with the same number was like trying to find a four-leaf clover. Common enough that it wasn't always coming up in the news, but uncommon enough for most people to believe they won't ever find a duplicate of their own number.

Clarke had taken a deep interest in birth numbers as a whole, but for herself personally she'd never really placed too much importance on them in her life. Like many, she settled into relationships where their numbers mismatched. Accepting the numbers weren't the answer to all of life's relationship problems, as much as it sometimes felt like it could be. Flicking lazily through one of the books she'd picked up, the number 3 was listing 'artistic, imaginative and scattered' as some of its personality traits. Clarke scoffed, recounting the first digit to her own number. Maybe putting personality traits to them had some small truth behind them after all.

 **"Uh, hi…"**

The deep voice coming from close by came as a surprise. Her blue eyes peered over the top of the book to see the source. Clarke wasn't expecting the voice to have been talking directly to her, maybe someone else, yet she was met with a pair of brown eyes staring back no sooner had she looked. There was a man standing just arms length away from her. He wore thick rimmed glasses which seemed to tie in with the splash of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His mop of scruffy dark hair splayed wildly in all directions. She was almost taken aback by the sudden need for smalltalk with someone so attractive.

 **"Oh, I'm just browsing. I'm good thanks"** she piped up quickly, offering her most sincere shy smile. This was all while she internally cringed at herself for turning him away so quickly. It was second nature to do so, but still that didn't seem to make this guy move on.

A smile of his own appeared and his head dropped down to look at himself before rising back up. He seemed almost embarrassed. **"Ah, no. I don't work here, _even if I do look the part_... actually I wanted to ask if I could buy you a book?"** He did look the part, wearing a grey buttoned shirt under a dark red sweater. Clarke was convinced if he wasn't employed at the bookstore he looked like he could have been a teacher.

 **"A book?"** she repeated and gave him a puzzled look. The one in her hands lowered slowly now that he'd caught her attention. Her brows knitted together into a small confused frown.

 **"Yeah, I'd buy you a drink, but-"** he gestured around them and Clarke suddenly clicked.

 **"Oh! _ohhh_... So you decided to try your luck in a bookstore?"** She mused, finding herself feeling more flustered by her vocal observations. It didn't seem to faze him though, he simply shrugged and smiled. Damn that smile.

 **"I don't usually do this, but I saw you and it felt like the right gesture to break the ice. How am I doing so far?"**

 _And how many times has he used that line before?_ Clarke thought to herself bitterly, her recent breakup still making her cynical. Look at him, he looked as though he could get just about any girl he'd set his mind to. Shifting her weight she protectively brought the book closer to her chest. **"Well I don't even know your name, so I'd say not too great. How do I know you're not some kind of-of serial killer or something?"** First thing that came to mind and her stutter made that obvious. Clarke was seriously kicking herself. Such a stupid comment.

He chuckled at that and her stomach knotted up. **"I think I'll leave the killing to literature. The names Bellamy by the way, how about you?"** God even his name was attractive. His hand reached out expectantly and Clarke swallowed back her nerves. He wanted the book and she had a split second to decide if she wanted to send him away again or not. Clarke placed the book into his hands. Her fingers brushed against his which she quickly pulled away from.

 **"I'm Clarke."** Her voice went unusually high which she quickly fixed with clearing her throat. By now Bellamy was already reading the cover of her book, he peered up at her curiously but went back to looking at the book she'd picked out.

 **"Clarke's a nice name. So luck isn't the only thing you believe in?"** He spoke plainly, his free hand tapped against the cover of the hardbook she'd handed over. Clarke felt her cheeks flush pink. Gosh what must he think of her?!

 **"It's research, not a personal belief. I'm a student at Arkadia? Planning on doing a paper on some known algorithms for peoples birth numbers."**

 **"Ah, I see."** He nodded, she couldn't read his thoughts and silently wished otherwise. Clarke stayed silent, letting the quiet between them linger in the hopes that Bellamy would expand. It felt awkward not to fill the space, but thankfully a moment later Bellamy took the bait.

 **"I, uh, work at the museum. Definitely don't miss writing papers. So am I allowed to get you this book now, or am I still under scrutiny?"** His head tilted a fraction and Clarke realized she was just delaying the inevitable.

 **"I think we're good now"** she spoke with a small smile and a nod. He seemed easygoing which she liked. The attention shifted to him now, something Clarke was way more interested about than that book. **"You mentioned you worked at a museum, which one?"**

 **"Just the local one, Polaris."** Bellamy turned on his heel and began slowly walking towards the cash register. Clarke wasted no time catching up to match his pace and walk alongside him. She rattled her brain trying to remember if she'd seen him before.

 **"Huh. I don't think I've ever seen you around."** She'd been to that museum hundreds of times, but was certain she'd have remembered someone this handsome working there.

 **"That's because I'm more the background guy. Any new temporary exhibitions are my doing, along with a few other things. Promise you it's more interesting than I make it sound."** Interesting was one word for it. He could make anything sound interesting in that voice.

Bellamy turned the book over to staff to scan and sell. She stood beside him and watched. Clarke still felt blindsided by how her day was turning out. She still felt a little raw even though the breakup had been over a month ago. The last thing she was expecting was to put anyone on her radar. Yet somehow, Bellamy made it happen almost effortlessly. Buying her a book certainly put him in her good graces. It was different to what guys usually did, refreshing. No one's ever done something like that for her before.

They left the bookstore together, once outside Bellamy turned to her and held out the bag containing the newly purchased book. **"This comes with no strings, but if you'd ever want a personal tour or just go for a coffee… here's my number"** Once she'd taken the bag he dipped into his pocket to pull out his wallet and pass out his business card. Clarke took it and pocketed it without hesitation.

 **"** **Thanks.** **I'll see you around, Bellamy"** she smiled. Clarke was more optimistic than what she had been just a short while earlier. She walked away from him to head back to her campus, leaving Bellamy to stand and watch for a moment before turning to head in the other direction.


	2. Chapter 2

Pulling into the drive of a moderately sized suburban home, it looked far more impressive than anything Bellamy could have afforded alone. His museum gig paid well but he shared the house with a few others to try and keep costs down. It was the only way he was going to survive the exorbitant rental prices of Washington D.C.

Slugging off his coat the moment he stepped inside the warmth of his home, it felt like a relief to be back and kicking off his shoes. The house was a typical four bedroom family home. A few things could do with being updated but getting the landlord to actually come out and sort that was another job in itself. Passing the living room he spotted one of the couches had been completely taken over. Murphy was hanging out on his own with the tv blasting some sort of cartoon channel while he tapped away at his laptop. He was never one to focus on one thing for too long. Sprawled out and feet up it looked as though he'd been there all day.

 **"Murphy"** Bellamy called out in greeting from the doorway, without pause he continued on into the kitchen which was across the hall from the living room. Opening up the fridge he pulled out a few ingredients from a shelf that he'd claimed as his own. Murphy was engrossed with whatever he was looking at on the laptop, after a long delay he brought his head up to peer through the doorway to Bellamy.

 **"Didn't think you'd be back 'til tonight."**

 **"I didn't feel like doing the overtime. Did stop by the bookstore though."**

Dropping his ingredients on the counter island Bellamy was off again in search of bread. A quick search through the cupboards produced a loaf out of Millers stash. He tossed the bag over to the same counter as his other bits. Making a mental note to replace what he used. He should probably get the guy a few beers too, after all it was his suggestion to try and approach a girl in a bookstore. Bellamy still couldn't believe it actually worked.

 **"Yeah? Did they have my back order?"**

Murphy's voice brought Bellamy to a standstill as he winced. He realized he'd forgotten something even if it wasn't massively important. Just some stupid weekly subscriptions of gentleman's magazines.

 **"I, uh, forgot to ask. Ran into a girl there instead, brought her a book."**

He'd get them tomorrow while on lunch break or something. The place was only around the corner from where he worked. Was convenient being so close to town every day. Bellamy went back to what he was doing, buttering a few slices of bread, then throwing anything and everything he'd owned into it; salad, cheese, meats, mayo. It was known as the everything sandwich, whatever was available in the fridge went into it. Sometimes it got pretty disgusting but was a well loved specialty growing up in the Blake household. He heard Murphy scoff.

 **"Wow rude, you completely forgot about me? That's so typical. So has bookshop girl got a name, or are you too busy forgetting that too?"** He heard the sarcasm coming from the living room perfectly clear. Murphy was mildly annoyed and Bellamy hadn't been home long enough to want to deal with that.

He let out a small sigh and continued putting together his sandwich. Finishing that one he started on a second. **"It wasn't like that, I'll pick it up for you tomorrow… and yeah, she seemed nice."** He smiled to himself, even if their run in had been short it was nice to be back out there. Bellamy remembered her smile, but the image was quickly ruined by Murphy's shrill voice calling out from the living room again.

 **"Oooh, a _nice_ bookshop girl with no name. You'd better hurry up and marry this one."**

The words were sharp and to the point, typical Murphy. Bellamy glanced up to the doorway and glared through narrowed eyes. What a fucking prick he was sometimes. How they'd managed to stay in touch since school after all these years was beyond him sometimes.

 **"Fuck off, Murphy. You don't need to know her name. How much longer are gonna be here anyway? Maybe it's time to actually start paying some rent or something?"**

Bellamy knew the guy was only taking out his frustrations out on those nearby because his ex would no longer put up with his shit. Emori had kicked him out and now the asshole was taking up their couch because literally no one else would have him. Bellamy felt sorry for him, but knowing Murphy it wouldn't be long so he actually didn't mind having him stay there.

 **" _Nahhh_ , I'm good thanks. Just don't forget my mags next time."**

Murphy spoke with an almost bored tone and went back to whatever he was doing. Bellamy rolled his eyes and took a bite of his sandwich. The front door slammed shut and the new arrival got to work kicking off shoes and ditching their coat. It wasn't until Octavia sluggishly appeared in the doorway did he realize it had been her. It wasn't uncommon for her to stay out for days at a time, but he'd not realized she'd stayed out all of last night too.

She looked like shit. Her hair was a tangled mess, caked makeup smeared all over her face and she was still in some sparkly outfit from the night before. No sooner did she spot Bellamy in the kitchen she spun away from him and made a beeline for her room instead. Bellamy wasn't having it. Grabbing his plate he hurried on after her, catching up as she'd slowly made her way up the stairs.

 **"I know you saw me, don't ignore me. Where the hell have you been all night?"**

 **"Don't start, Bell. My head's pounding and I don't need this shit right now."**

She didn't make any efforts to slow down or stop, even if she was moving slower than her usual upbeat pace. Clearly hungover or still drunk from the night before. Bellamy's frown deepened, it wasn't even a weekend and she was out partying. She wasn't even old enough to be drinking. He couldn't help but worry about her, but his concerns often came out as more of an annoyance at her behaviour.

 **"So what happened to your job at the grocery? Wasn't you supposed to be doing a late shift tonight?"**

 **"Yeah well... they fired me. I really don't need YOU getting all judgy with me right now, okay? So just back off!"**

 **"O-"**

His words were cut off when her bedroom door slammed shut. Bellamy was left standing out in the hallway alone. He let out a small sigh and bit his tongue to stop himself from saying anything else. He desperately wanted to, but getting Octavia to actually listen to him while in this state wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Last time he pressed her she climbed out her bedroom window just to avoid him. Bellamy often felt more like her parent than her brother. It was a choir to do but he knew he was the only family she had. Someone needed to try and get her back on the right path.

 **"Right, well… there's a sandwich out here if you're hungry"**

Bending down he placed the plate by the door and picked his unfinished sandwich from the top. He cared but he didn't care that much. Heading back downstairs he flopped into the second couch away from Murphy. Sinking into the leather Bellamy looked dejected but not enough to stop him from biting into his sandwich. He used two hands to keep its contents from spilling out all over himself. Murphy continued tapping away at his laptop, only stopping to look back at Bellamy.

 **"Poor Bellaboo. Had a long day? Need a foot massage?"**

Murphy tilted his head to the side and pouted exaggeratingly. The asshole. Bellamy resisted rolling his eyes. Instead he carefully pulled out a slice of ham from his sandwich and flicked it across the room at him.

 **"Hey! Watch it!"** the brunette barked, lifting up his laptop up to shield it away from the incoming assault. The slice of meat hit slapped against his thigh and Murphy pulled a face. He'd only been in his favorite band t-shirt and a pair of navy blue boxers. Hitting skin was an added bonus which got a small chuckle from Bellamy.

 **"So what're you up to? And if you say porn I swear-"**

 **"It's not porn."** Murphy interjected with a huff, peeling the ham off his leg with a look of disgust. He leaned over to drop the slice onto the coffee table and become someone else's problem. **"Dating site actually, so you were close"**

That caught Bellamy's attention, he raised a brow uncertainty. **"Getting over Emori that quickly?"** he asked.

 **"Yup, that quickly"** Murphy answered without hesitation.

He might not have hesitated but the slight change in his expression said otherwise. Bellamy didn't point it out, he had no reason to throw salt on that wound. Taking another bite of his sandwich he shrugged. Murphy went back to a subject which wasn't about his ex girlfriend.

 **"But anyway, you should probably make an account too. It's easy enough. You just sign up, tell 'em your birth numbers and they try to match people with digits close to yours. Not exactly the soulmate matchmaker I was hoping for but it's alright."**

Murphy was just rambling to avoid more Emori talk, Bellamy couldn't blame him really. He still scrunched up his nose while he chewed and listened. There was no chance in hell he was going on a dating site like that.

 **"I'm good... thanks though."**

Apparently taking that answer as some sort of insult, Murphy huffed. **"No one else is gonna tell you, so I'm just going to come out and say it like a real friend. You're a massive drag to be around when you haven't gotten laid in ages."** Maybe it was true, Bellamy didn't think so though.

 **"Likewise"** he muttered, getting Murphy to huff again. Moving the sandwich in his hands

 **"-And don't you dare throw anymore of that abomination at me!"**

Bellamy laughed and shook his head. This sandwich wasn't going to be wasted on the likes of Murphy. Taking the last few bites he felt his phone silently vibrate in his pocket. Cleaning off his fingertips he retrieved his phone. He read out the unknown number and opened up the message with a heightened sense of urgency.

 _ **"Hey, it's Clarke. Thanks again for that book, it's been an interesting read so far."**_

He couldn't help but smile to himself, even if it had been just a few words it was from her. Bellamy wasn't expecting a text for at least another few days. Murphy caught the look and made a whole lot of stupid cooing noises until Bellamy got up and left.

Once he was in the safety of his own bedroom he sat down on the edge of his bed and text her back. _**"Hey, no problem. Was nice meeting you."** _His fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what else to add. Would it be too soon to ask her out on a date? Maybe bring up her choice in literature? If Miller was home he'd know what to suggest, but Bellamy couldn't wait that long. Another moment passed and his fingers started tapping away again.

 _ **"You free anytime this week? I could show you around the new exhibition that's just been set up. It's serial killer free, I promise."**_

He hit send before he could bottle out. Sighing he leaned backwards and dropped into his bed sheets to stare at the ceiling. He felt like he sucked at this. Waiting for her reply was going to drive him nuts. He was never patient enough for this sort of thing. Luckily for him, it seemed like neither was Clarke. His phone vibrated and he couldn't open it fast enough.

 _ **"Okay sure. Is Saturday okay?"**_


End file.
